In the Light of the Ethereal Sky
by peoplewillsaywereinlove
Summary: She was tired of being a little bird;He wanted to be her Hound. A story of their love and escape from Kings Landing. A different twist on their journey to safety and love.
1. Chapter 1

As the sun began to creep along the stone window, the birds started their soft, morning songs. I could almost hear their stories, maybe even sing along. I was always told I had a smooth voice, capable of beautiful melodies; I humbly accepted the compliments and curtsied away, as a lady should. But now, more than ever In my sixteen years of life, I didn't just want to sing with the birds; I wanted to soar with them, shed the old ways Septa Mordane taught me for so many of my younger years. Why should I even try and remember them? They were utterly pointless; pointless this morning, and the next. As I lifted my head off of the velvety pillow, I still knew I must continue my old ways. That is what is expected of me, every day, until the day I am to wed my beloved betrothed, my blonde-haired prince, and the boy of the countless dreams of my youth. Yet, after the beatings and the humiliations, his face became an icon of the ugliness inside each of these men at Kings Landing. And as I raised my head off the pillow this morning, waiting for the handmaidens to come dress me, I knew I had to see these faces once more.

This morning I had to wear an intricate, blue dress, with small pearly beads that reflected my auburn hair. My long hair was fastened into a matching pearl clip, with braids holding unto the longest lengths. My mother, wherever she was, would have been proud; despite the South's style, my Tully roots shown through. My father also would have been proud …

Once the handmaidens were done, I stood waiting to be escorted to my beloved; a smile crept along my face, hiding my horror. My ribs still ached from the last beating Ser Meryn gave me. Usually I would hold fast, stare straight into my Kings eyes as the blows came. But this morning, all I wanted to was lay my head down unto my pillow and sing. A knock interrupted my door. I expected Sandor Clegane, the King's guard. He was not a true knight, yet he had shown me the most kindness during my years at Kings Landing. He usually escorted me; I even wished it would be him this morning, since I would have appreciated some words of encouragement. But it was not Sandor. It was not even a handmaiden. Nor was it another Knight to escort me.

It was my King.

Joffrey would never come to my own bedchamber. This morning had to be of some special torture. The broad smirk already warned me of what was to come. I waited patiently as he surveyed my dress.

"Well, you are looking quite ravishing this morning. Good. I want you looking pretty", as he walked into my chamber.

"Yes, your Grace, anything to please your will", I retorted, as defiantly as possible. He gazed at me with utter disappointment; I knew he did not come just to see my face.

"Hmph. Listen to me. Today, the war council will be joining in the Grand hall and I must satisfy these old bastards". I looked at him questionably. What did this have to do with me? "Which means I want you there the entire meeting; I want them to realize I am not a boy, I have my whores. Ahem. I meant, my ladies." Another pitifully smirk. My hand slowly curled itself into a fist; I had to hold it steadily down until my anger past. I agreed as politely as I could muster.

"This dress will not do. You understand? I want you bathed and looking as fuckable as possible. And quickly, traitor, yes?", he spat as he walked toward the heavy wooden door.

"Yes, your Grace."

As Joffrey exited the door, the few handmaidens crept back into my room. Another wardrobe change. A sigh escaped my lips.

The bathhouse was a distinct bathing corridor just for the queen and her maidens; but today was different. Today I had to look like the queen I will be. And that called for this special bathhouse. The handmaidens guided me down the sunbaked corridor of the castle. It was a while till we finally reached the room; its beauty knew no bounds. The walls housed wonderfully bright stain glass windows, adorned with ivy-covered columns. In the center was the pure marble tub, filled to the top with warm water smelling of chamomile and lilies. The first handmaiden, the tall, stern brunette, helped me out of my dress and under sheets. The second handmaiden, an older woman of about thirty, poured a sweet perfume into the tub. I then stepped into the warm water; I couldn't help but gasp at the unexpected comfort of the now milky liquid covering my body. The third maiden commenced the scrubbing of my back when a loud knock was heard at the door.

The second maiden, looking quite appalled at the interruption, went toward the door. Closing the door behind her, the other girls looked in confusion at each other at the amount of time she was taking. The water was absolutely perfect against my naked skin; I had not even noticed the knock. The two handmaidens, after some time, followed the other toward the door. And at the point, the bathhouse was empty, just the water and I.

As I opened my eyes, I could hear the women talking to a man. I could not tell who It was through the door, but some words were echoed.

"The girl has been assigned new maidens for her bath. You three are free off your duties. I will guard the door while the other girls come". I do not know what the girls did after those words were spoken. But a few moments later, I could hear rapid footsteps walking away from the hall. I knew they were not too happy to deal with a traitorous stupid girl, yet I was surprised at their abrupt departure.

There was silence. I thanked the Gods for this small gift of personal freedom. I sunk deeper into the water, forgetting about Joffrey, forgetting about the castle, forgetting about the Queen, and forgetting myself. I was a Stark of Winterfell, with a mix of faithful Tully in my blood. At this moment, I just wanted to be a free girl.

"Well, look at this little piece." A thud as the door closed. "I didn't startle you, did I?" Massive laughter. Ser Mateos laughed as I hurried to cover myself. He was a knight, yet I had heard of his ways, taking whores as young as they can be each night. His smile as he locked the door raised the hairs on my bare neck.

I have seen you, Stark girl. I've seen your beauty. But I was not aware of your stunning little figure!" He crept closer.

"I'll tell the Queen, I'll tell the king! Stay away from me!", I warned as courageous as possible; nevertheless, my voice cracked at the terror.

"HAAHAHAH! You think they would care, wench…? He reached for my hand, gripping my hair instead as I struggled to avoid his touch. Ser Mateos pulled my ear to his mouth; "For this while, you are mine", as his mouth kissed my neck, sending a shaking seizure down my body. I screamed as loud as I could, until his large hand covered it, pushing hard. It was going to happen like this, alone, in this room. I continued screaming inside, for someone to hear me, to save me like the knights in the stories. As this knight continued biting my neck, following my shoulder and chest, tears fell down my face.

A huge cracking noise rang through the room.

Ser Mateos was thrusted back into reality, as shocked spread through his face. Another crack. The door of the bathhouse was breaking. A sword was piercing through the ancient door.

Ser Mateos through my whole body against the tub and took out his own sword; my head fell unto the marble lining and as I could feel blood oozing from the wound.

At that second, an even louder explosion occurred, breaking down the entire door from its hinges. A man, large enough to tower Ser Mateos, charged through the dust and rubble. As I laid on the barren ground, dizzy from the ache of my wound, I could see the outline of an armored man as he sliced Ser Mateos body in half. I could feel the hot blood spraying across my face. A scream escaped my lips, as the Knights sliced body fell on the stone floor. The room slowly turned black, as I felt solid, gentle hands pick my body up into the air.


	2. Chapter 2

A flurry of colors wisked around me in a clear summer meadow as I played with Lady, my beautiful direwolf. She was there, in the flesh itself, barking playfully. Her eyes suddenly turned toward the brook at an approaching figure. Soon, a familiar face came forward. My father's serious face changed into one of relief. His eyes filled with tears as mine had already fallen. Was it a ghost? Or a mirage? I was not sure what this was, but I did not want it to end. As my hands reached to touch him, to feel my father with me, the colors swirled, painting the beautiful meadow back to darkness.

The crickets chirped on peacefully as my bedchamber laid in front of me. My head still ached; my fingers reached my temple at the sore, throbbing area. I traced along a tender cut, about 3 inches long. And the visions of that terrible morning resurfaced. Ser Mateos being struck down effortlessly by my savior... It had been him. Sandor. A sense of dread filled my being. Where was he? The king would hear of his Hound killing another knight; Joffrey would sentence him to an excrutiating torment. I had to stop him. I had to see Sandor.

I got up as quickly as my head would permit me. I made sure I was somewhat presentable; Joffrey would not take me seriously if I looked less than a Lady. As a ran through the corriders toward the Great Hall, I caught myself thinking of Sandor.

Since my first days as a captive at Kings Landing, the rough, aggressive Sandor would tower over the other Knights, intimadating me ( and the other men). I soon learned he was the only man at Kings Landing I could trust with all my heart and my life. He had saved it a few times before, always calling me a small 'little bird', too weak and too scared to leave my cage. I hated to admit it, but he was always right. And if I did not reach the King soon, I would never be able to thank him.

The Grand hall stood, empty, in front of me. I frantically looked around for anyone who could hear my plea. Behind the thrones steps, a slender figure appeared walking toward me. The Queen, as beautiful as she was, could never mask her dark intentions. Her blond, long braid swayed behind her as a smile crawled on her face.

"Oh, little dove, you look quite startled. Did you rest for long? That fall must have been painful", Cersei proclaimed. She knew about everything of the past morning. I summoned all my courage.

"Your Grace, please, I beg you, have mercy on Ser Sandor. He killed that man only as self defense, to protect me! Please, have mercy..!". I had not meant to raise my voice, but my fear could not be surpressed. I just wanted to save Sandor's life. Just as he had saved mine.

"But he is not a Knight", the Queen retorted, speaking the truth. Sandor was not a vowed Knight, yet his loyalty to the king was unfleeting. He derserved more.

"Please your Grace, I...-"

The Queen raised her hand, bidding my silence.

"Do not fret, little dove, all is well. Justice will serve". My heart fluttered as I prepared my many thanks. I was about to praise my Queen, when she interupted me again.

" Sandor Clegane has been sentence to death by hanging tomorrow once the bells ring at noon. Come, do not worry, all will be alright. Now, fly away". With that, Queen Cersei touched heels and walked out of the Grand Hall. As the door closed behind her, my knees gave in. My only..friend..unjustly being killed. I was tired, of the injustice, of the pain. It reminded my of Fathers death, an unjust death. No, I thought, this will not happen again.

The cells. He would be there, awaiting his sentence like a loyal Hound. And I had to find him; this little bird will stay in her cage no longer.

I started to run, even sprint down the halls. The sweat poured down my back as my silk dress tugged unto my limbs. It was almost midnight. Insecurities rushed through my mind: what in Heavens name is a sixteen year old girl going to do to save a man? What can I do...? Desperate thoughts began to sink in my mind. I hope it did not have to come to that.

I was near the basement cells when a very small man came walking towards me. I cannot be interrupted once more, I thought. The nonchalant face of Tyrion Lannister the dwarf met me in the brick corridor.

"Good Evening, my Lady. A bit late to be having tours of the grounds, is if not? I do not-"

" I am sorry, my Lord, but I am in a hurry and must go. Please excuse me". I bowed as low as I could. Tyrion's facade had changed.

" There is nothing you can do. His fate is sealed", he said, as I gazed into his countenance. Surely, he could try and help.

"My Lord, please, I must! It is not fair for him to-"

At that moment, his hand crept into mine, shutting me up and putting a small metal object into it. I opened my hand to reveal a ancient key. Was this a trick?

"You have an hour before the guards come back from thier drinking spree. The dragons I gave them should buy them a few rounds. You must make haste if that dog should live to see another bone."

My mouth stood agape. Was this really possible? Could Tyrion really be coming to my aid?

" I...do not understand...Why help me? Why help Ser Sandor? You are a Lannister. Forgive me, my Lord, but how can I trust you?"

Tyrion smiled a cunning smile.

" Oh I was not much of a lover of Ser Mateos. Rather an obnoxious Knight. That poor Hound was only saving a Wolf after all. And remember, My lady, not every Lannister is a evil twit." He started to turn.

" Thank you, My Lord. I owe you all of my thanks and more", as I kissed Tyrion on the cheek. I must never forget my manners. I started to run again with a new urgency, when Tyrions voice rang again through the corridor. I looked back again at the only Lannister I would have to thank all of my life.

"Do not go looking for your brother, nor your Mother. The King will look there first". And with that, he walked back up the stairs into the night.

I would free Sandor, and then...what? Stay in Kings Landing and awaited My death..?

As I approached the basement door, unlocked the key, and hurried in, I decided what must I do.

I had to fly.

Sandor's POV….

The rats covered the floor as the stench of blood and bones filled the damp cell. I would have killed every fucking rat in this hell hole. But at that point, I didnt care. I knew my death would be coming soon. Heh. Poor little bird, must be going mad. She was too kind not to worry.

Deep down, I didnt give a damn about tomorrow.

I had done it for the Little Bird. And for that, my death I would accept.

I could not help but smile. My mind took me back at the times the little Bird would call me "Ser". Foolish girl.

I was no Ser.

That bastard. And he was called Ser. More like Mateos, the fucking bastard of the South.

At least she is safe. Hmph. I hope she isn't a fool and sees the whole damn hanging. I dont think the little bird will last a second.

Wine would be nice.

Small steps approached the hole. Another bugger to guard me.I chuckled at the thought.

The door flew open as the prettiest blue eyes looked at me through the light of a lantern.

Heh.

Well, I must be dead already. And this must be heaven.


	3. Chapter 3

My heart was beating frantically out of my chest. I only had a few moments; yet, I was more nervous, not because of this dangerous action, but because of seeing Him again. I knew he could intimidate me just by looking at me; his face was haven for a disastrous burn his older brother Gregor made him suffer many years ago. It always caught me by surprise, covering half of Sandor's face. There were times I pitied him since, without the burn, he could have been considered somewhat attractive. Other moments it frightened me to the core, his lips twitching in a frightening manner while his eyes dug deep into mine.

But now, as I opened the door to the foul smelling cell, I almost welcomed the site, a site of trust. The metal door opened slower, as I looked into the darkness. It was like pure night in the small crevice of a prison. I thanked the Gods for the the lantern at the post of the door. His eyes were already gazing straight at me, a look of shock on his face. For a minute, I could not move, fixated. My instincts took hold, knowing time was being wasted.

"Ser..? Ser?",I called out, as I quickly unlocked his prison gate. A smile formed on his face, bending his burn upright. I heard a chuckle. I had to hurry him, for his own sake. And mine. Unlocking his chains, I looked at him again, no longer afraid of him.

"Little Bird. Freeing a dog. That seems a bit strange, doesn't it?"

"You are free. There's only so much time! You must go..." I breathed in deeply. "And I am going with you".

I knew he would laugh at my suggestion. He would think it lunacy. A lady escaping? Sandor would think I was jesting. He knew my place, and it was not the wilderness. Nor the battlefield, but somewhere I could be contained. He would not take me with him,would he..?

His eyes changed to something close to pity, or was it compassion?

"Is that what you want, little bird?" Sandor asked, after what seemed ages. He had not asked why and he had not even said no to my demand. It was automatic. "You going to stretch those wings, now aren't ya?"

I looked down at the cold floor. I trust him. Now more than ever. Gazing at his stone,icy gray eyes, I nodded.

Without a word, he stood up, grabbed my wrist, and started to run, out of the prison into the corridors. I could not help but doubt at our safety. Could Tyrion be trusted? Who knew if the King's guards were coming, ready to take our heads in a second. What frightened me the most was Sandor's silence as we ran to the stables. He was a man of few words, yet he did not say anything, not even a grunt. We arrived at his horse's stall; it was the first time I looked upon his horse. A black, almost coal-colored Friesian stared at me through the wood. It was the most enormous horse I had ever laid eyes on, yet the most beautiful. His touch snapped me back to my senses.

Sandor's hands reached for my waist; I could not help but blush as he easily put me on top of the horse. I was surprised at his gentleness coming from such a towering man. I then noticed I would ride in front of him, on his chest. I blushed as I soon realized that was the truth. He mounted the horse, rallying the beast into motion. The beast, I soon found out who's name was Nero, ran through the gates and into the courtyard. There was no one in sight. Not a guard. Even the crickets had stopped their melodies. I reminded myself, that if I ever saw Tyrion again, I would fall to his knees in thanks.

Nero galloped out into the streets, past the marketplace, and past the outside guard post. To my own amazement, my body fit perfectly against Sandor's chest. I could hear his heartbeat against his heavy armor. His eyes were facing forward, into the night before us. He never once looked at me. One arm grabbed the reins, while his other arm was softly on my back. I had not even noticed we were finally in the wilderness. My wound from the day before ached as the horse's gallops sounded even louder against the night's silence.

Sandor's POV

The Little Bird soon fell asleep. Had she realized what she had just done?

Part of me wanted to slap myself for doing this. What the hell was I thinking bringing her with me?

But it wasn't my idea, was it. She wanted to go. She wanted to be free.

I looked down at the small Lady I held in my arms.

Her wound was bleeding again. I didn't even have a handkerchief to give her. I wiped the blood careful with the hand that was holding her.

She stirred against my chest.

Damn it to Hell.

Sansa's POV

I do not know how long we rode. It could have been days and I would not have noticed. The warmth radiating from Sandor dizzied me into sleep, even when I tried my best to stay alert. Soon, Nero could be heard slowing down to a canter. His strength must be depleting.

After some time, the horse slowed to a stop. Half asleep, I looked around to my surroundings. A small brook of laid before us. Before I could move myself, his hands were at my waist again, bringing me down lightly unto a soft log. A few footsteps in front of me walked Sandor. A thud was heard. He collapsed unto the ground, as my own exhaustion took over once again.


	4. Chapter 3 Commentary

Hey guys! No, I am sorry to say this is not an official chapter but more of an update from yours truly. I promise a real story update is coming along soon. :)

For those who have been wondering about Sandors horse, don't worry, I did the change purposely. I know, in the books, he has a warhorse named Stranger, named after a one of the faces of The Faith of the Seven, but I wanted to change it up a bit. Nero is Latin for powerful and Italian for black, and also one of the cruelest emperors in History. You'll see why soon why I've picked that name. I also changed his horse to be a Friesian; I am a lover of horses and thought this would be quite a magnificent breed for Sandor to ride.

Many thanks to those that have read and reviewed! I appreciate every comment; you guys are the best! You guys give me the strive to continue writing. :)

Unitl next time!- Anna, anightshadefromdisturbed


	5. Chapter 4

…

The stars above us were like the ones my father used to tell me when I was younger. It was like the gods had blown a dandelion into the sky. They were glistening with the black mirror of the heavens against the light of the half moon. It was the color of a reddish pearl, rising slowly behind the tall oak trees surrounding us. The frogs and crickets sang a symphony of nature and its own secrets. I was envious of those frogs and those crickets; they sang for themselves and their loved ones. They were not as lovely, yet they were as free as the birds.

I laid on an old mossy log, my dress already caked in dirt. Part of the hem was already torn. It was as if exiting those gates had shed me of all courtesies. I did not look like a Lady, but I must not forget who and what I was.

Nero was nestled near one of the towering trees, nibbling on a tuft of grass. Even from a distance, he seemed as aggressive as his master. Sandor, asleep near the clear brook, breathed deeply. I made sure not to wake him. But something drew me to his horse.

I slowly and gently approached the beast as its eyes met mine, offering another tuft of grass. He eyed me with a distrust that seemed almost human. My fear reached its limit as his front legs started kicking the dirt, grunting and neighing menacingly.

"You might want to stand back, little bird", a voice declared behind me.

Sandor seized the reins of Nero, pulling his towering head down. His other hand pushed me softly back, out of the beast's territory. After some minutes, Nero's sturdy breaths calmed to a passive mood. Even as I turned toward the brook, I could feel the creature's eyes on my back.

"That is no pony. Don't approach him without me near, unless you want to be killed," Sandor said, as he sat on the sandy edge of the brook. I looked toward the creature yet again.

"Why does it want to kill me…?", I heard myself ask. A laugh echoed in the trees.

"Don't take it quite that personally, little bird. It wants to kill everything. Except me; it's smart enough to know I'd kill it first," Sandor replied. "That beast has killed more than 20 men. It met its match with yours truly."

He said the words with disdain. And then there was silence.

As I looked upon the sky again, the continent seemed even more cosmic than ever before. I did not know where I was. Tyrion warned me not to find Robb, nor my mother. But I did not even know where they were. I knew they were safe. I was not. And there was only one place I could think that could be a safe haven, not just for me, but for Sandor.

"What's wrong, Little Bird? Frightened?" he rasped. He was right, but now, I had to show some of my courage.

"No, I-"

My voice betrayed me, as it cracked, to Sandors amusement. He straight looked at me for the first time since we left Kings Landing; I did not see malice, just interest.

"And where is this Little Bird going to do now? Already going back on her actions…?"

"No! I do not take anything back. I accept my actions. And I am relieved to have you with me".

Yet another laugh.

"Well, it was that or my head, now wasn't it? And to think; a little bird saved me". Sandor's words were not bitter. I saved him because I owed him, but deep down, that was not the only reason. I wanted him to come with me.

He noticed my quietness. The oak trees rustled in the cold, night wind. As I sat on the hard log, Sandor sighed deeply and got up toward me.

Kneeling beside me, the scent of metal and wood crept into my nostrils. It was not an unpleasant smell. Sandor looked straight into my eyes. The moon's little light reflected the dark in his eyes.

"And where do you want to go, Little Bird?"

I had a natural drive to find Robb and my mother, to be together with them again. Bran would be with them also, with Rickon close behind them. Arya would be annoying me, fighting endlessly about my "stupid" curtseys. I even missed Jon, as quiet as he was. And as I remembered each one of them, my heart ached and my eyes watered. I made sure Sandor could not see; I knew this was no place for childish tears. Thank the gods for the darkness.

At that moment, I thought of the only place that could be safe, for me, and for Sandor. Joffrey would not look there. I might have been trusting Tyrion too abundantly, but once the idea was in my mind, I could not let it go.

"Winterfell", I replied.

Sandor had not looked away from my face for even a glance around our surroundings. I could feel a smirk forming on his face.

"Going back home, aren't we? If that is what you want, then North it shall be."

I did not want him to feel pushed into coming with me. I did not want to pull anyone farther into a worse fate. We were both already wanted traitors. If Sandor were to be hurt because of my foolish actions, I do not think I could live with myself.

"Ser…", I began to say, until he glared at me. I quickly called him by his first name, the only time I had dared.

"Sandor...what will you do..?"

At this, he laughed. My cheeks flushed scarlet. It was a sincere question. He could leave me; I would not have minded. He had already done so much. His answer surprised me out of my thoughts.

"I will go wherever you'll go, Little Bird. A Little foolish bird. You thought I would leave you? You'd die in the time it takes you to flap those small wings of yours. Besides…what does a dog do best? Follow."

I did not mean to cry. It came involuntarily. The sincerity in his voice made me smile for the first time since my father had been alive.

"You will go with me..?" I asked; I had to make sure this was not a jest. That his promise was real…

He sighed again, approaching even closer than before. Sandors hand reached to cup my chin, again, surprisingly gentle.

"Yes, Little Bird. I will go with you. And you will be safe."

I could not help but smile, for him, for my family I will see again. Even in the darkness, I could see he was smiling too. His burn twitched with the sudden movement of his face, yet, it was a lovely smile. I had so much to say to him, and so much I owed him.

"Thank you."

….

It wouldn't be long till dawn. I had to get us moving again. She hadn't said anything, but I knew the Little Bird was starving.

I helped her upon Nero when I noticed her auburn hair shining against the little light that was still giving off the half moon.

It was beautiful.

She had to disguise it in some way. The Tully in her could be seen for miles.

My cloaked swayed behind; the Kings Landing emblem was sown into the white of the fabric. I had to get rid of this.

"Here", as I tossed it at her. "You have to hide that flaming hair of yours."

She quickly ripped the emblem without even thinking. The Little Bird looked shock at her own action; I smiled, reassuring her.

She quickly folded the fabric into a veil, covering her hair entirely, except for some unruly hairs in the front.

I laughed. She looked just like her Septa.

We rode even after sunrise. A crossroads laid in front of us; I suddenly recognized the area. We were near Rivverun , but I knew better than to approach a castle. A small inn would be sufficient, but Lannister dogs could be everywhere.

Hours passed. The Little Bird fell silent. She needed nourishment.

It was around dusk when a light stood apart in the distant hills of the terrain. For a moment I thought it was a farm of sorts; but a few horses outside told me otherwise. It was a small inn.

I hesitated to come near the small house. There were only two horses outside on the posts. Yet it was too noiseless.

"Little Bird, we'll have to fine another shelter. Not this inn, nevertheless."

The few coins in my pocket could buy the Little Bird meal for the night.

And maybe some wine for myself.

….  
Sandor left me near a small clearing in a wooded area; it was near enough of the inn, yet hidden from any traveler. It was not safe to go to an inn at this point. I knew Joffrey would want my arrest; he would look even beyond the Wall for me. He would be quite pleased to bring me back to Kings Landing, torture the life out of me, and then use me as nothing but a child-giving form.

The sky grew dark quickly. Nero was left far away from me; I watched it from a safe distance. My stomach growled painfully; this is what it was like to be truly hungry. I had been blessed all my life and I had not even known it.

Today was a moonless night. Septa used to proclaim moonless nights were when luck sprouted from the flowers in the valleys in Westeros. Perhaps this was one of those nights. Perhaps every night should be like this.

A rustle was heard in the leaves of the bushes surrounding me. My heart starting racing until I saw Sandor appeared through the green.

"Calm down, Little Bird, its only me. Here", as he placed a piece of bread and a sort of meat in my hands. I had never seen this type of meat, but my mouth starting watering. Before I had taken my first bite, I tore the bread and meat in half, offering it to Sandor. He grinned, refusing my offer and declared how he would be fine with a bit of wine, helping himself to some. Nero ate grass peacefully way from us, as I started to eat the bread.

The air was crisp, not as cold as the day before, but comfortable. My hair ached for the feel of the light wind, but I knew had to keep my wrapped veil on.

I soon dazed into a semiconscious state. Sandor seemed to be asleep. Or perhaps, he was just in thought. I had noticed we both dazed into these dreamy states of mind. I slowly closed my eyes, ready for sleep to take over, when, a sudden rustle of leaves sounded above in the tree towering over us.

Sandor was alert in seconds, pushing me behind him as he unsheathed his sword. The metal reflected the moons beams.

A black form moved above the trees. I started panicking, witnessing its quickness. I soon noticed it was not just a form; it was four deftly moving men.

As they fell from the tree, they swiftly commenced circling us. They were dressed in all black: black armor as dark as Nero's coat while their visors masked their faces. The lion emblem was etched into their chest plates. They were not guard, nor soldiers. These were Lannister assassins.

The first man, the largest of the men, struck first, aiming at Sandors unprotected head. Missing him by a few inches, Sandor struck him down as another assassin attacked with a small sword. The third man struck from behind Sandor, holding my neck against a dagger. Sandor quickened his pace, striking the smallest of the forms down, cutting deep into his shoulder. The fourth man was at his heels, grazing Sandors knee with his blade. He growled in pain as the assassin tried blocking Sandor's swipe. He was not as fortunate as to miss Sandors sword, as the assassins head flew through the air. The blood fell upon Sandors face as he faced the last assassin holding me tightly against his blade.

I tried pushing through his arms, but his body was twice as large as mine. I felt useless as Sandor battled for both our lives.

The assassin suddenly threw me against the grown as he threw another dagger straight at Sandors eyes. But it was of no use; Sandor blocked the attack with his own sword and sent his own blade into the side of the assassins head. The air had fallen silent once again.

Sandor growled under his breath.

"Damn them all to Hell."

He extended his bloody hand, trying to help me to my feet. His breath fell silent as swift footsteps ran toward him.

The smallest assassin rushed forward, the blood oozing from his half-attached shoulder. He was near Sandors neck in seconds, and the trembling blade would fall successfully.

I do not know what happen after those. It seems the clouds stopped moving, while the trees hushed their limbs. It was not until I glanced down at the dagger belonging to the other assassin in my hands that this was not a nightmare.

The dagger fell deep into the neck of the last assassin. His warm blood fell like a river on my fingers, dripping and staining my dress. My hands were shaking against the limp body. Sandor gently and wordlessly took my shaking limbs off of the blade, letting it fall unto the ground.

The stars took upon a scarlet hue as my scream echoed through the heavens.


	6. Chapter 5

Thank you to all that have reviewed! They are most humbly appreciated. Short chapter this week but

a longer chapter to come! I apologize for minor typos in my last chapters; my laptop is slightly broken.

Enjoy!-Anna

T+ for mild/and a strong language

…

It was as if Her life had gone with the bloody Assassin's.

It took ages to calm her, for the Little Birds screeching to die down.  
Her eyes never left the dagger. Her hands shook violently as her tears fell down like cascades.  
She had killed a man. And she would never forgive herself, would she?

It must have been the old wench in the inn. The only one who eyed me from the corner.

I thought she was just another lunatic in the midst of drunk bastards.

She was not just a demented witch. Must have been a spy for the damn Lannisters.

Had me fooled.

I would have killed those damn snakes twofold. It was natural to kill; it was embedded into every fucking man.

But it had not come to the Little Bird.  
She would have never tainted herself with such an act. But she saved me yet again.  
I drove her to do it.

I carried her upon Nero, her eyes never leaving the sky.

Her tears had dried but that night would mark the Little Bird until the end of her days.

I rode as fast as Nero could stand it. I needed to get the Little Bird to a new tree, somewhere she could forgot the blood

from her hands.  
Past Rivverun, I drove the beast as far North as I could. We still had days, maybe weeks till Winterfell.  
But I didn't give a damn about the time it would take.  
I needed to bring the Little Bird back to life.

We rode until the sunset. There was no villages or inns in sight; it would be safe to stay the night in the forest. Another moonless night, the stars a bit duller than the nights before.

The Little bird would not look away.

I tied Nero to a ancient looking tree near where we would stay the night. I was starving but I managed to find some berries from a wild bush.

I offered some to the Little Bird; she smiled a small, but nevertheless a beautiful smile and shook her head.

She still had that make-shift veil on; I knew it was uncomfortable for her but she wouldn't take it off.

It had been hours, almost a day, and she had not said a word. I couldn't help but stare; what was going on in her head?

Had she finally tired enough to stop her flight?

The rocky edge of the trees led to a small pond. My muscles ached from riding; a bath would have been perfect. But I knew I had to stay and watch the Little Bird. Hell knows what she would do.

Abruptly, the Little Bird stood quietly and walked to the edge of the pond. The night was dark; I had to make sure I did not lose her.

She kneeled into the water, wetting her blood soaked dress. The Little Bird looked once again at the sky and down into the water. She started to wash the dress, first softly then harder and harder as she tried to be rid of the scarlet.

"Little Bird...", I tried to call her. To bring her back.

She didn't respond, continuing her scrubbing, her eyes growing wide. I approached her once again, putting my hand on her small shoulder,

"Little Bird! Stop it, your making yourself bleed!"

It was true, her hands now had deep red scratches.

At this I couldn't just watch.

Seven Hells.

I grabbed her shoulders, going into the water myself.

"Sansa!", I cried as hard as I could.

At this she finally looked up at me, her eyes full of sadness and fear.

I shook her, I cried again out to her.

I wanted my Little Bird again.

"You are a Stark. You are no longer a frail little bird! You are a Lady, a future Queen. And in this game, you must bite or be bitten, strike or be struck down. Do you understand? You have killed a man, but you must pass ahead; this is war and here you cannot cry. You fight. The blood you shed will help you rise. And that life was going to take yours. But you fought back. And you are a Stark. Your winter is coming, Little Bird. And you must continue to fight back. "

I breathed those words as fast they came to my mind. I had wanted to say them for years. But now, at this moment, she had to hear them.

She never took her eyes off mine. I still saw fear, but deep in those eyes I could swear to all the gods I saw a flame afire.

I couldn't control it. I pushed her into my arms until I felt her breathing slow and her arms stop shaking. She was so small.

I could feel warm tears fall down my armor. She cried softly; she had realized what she had to do.

"You will be powerful, and you will be great. Your sons will be great. And your empire will be great. But first", and at this I raised her chin, her eyes locked with mine,

"you must fight."

The stars began to dim to a purple tint. Her tears had dried to nothing. Her eyes took upon a dark cerulean in the musky night air.

The dire wolf was alive.


	7. Chapter 6

I did not fear him any longer. I looked at him with a different sight. He was not the man I thought he was, cold, aggressive and a killer. Although there was no denying his nature, Sandor was more than that; he was a man that knew how the world calculated its  
moves. He understood how Men could survive. But most importantly, he was a man that had saved my life, physically and mentally.  
There was no more fear. Only admiration.

The night was still dark. He had left me in the pond to bath and wash my clothes; they were absolutely filthy, the bottom lace caked in blood. I needed to cut all ties with what this dress represented. I needed to change myself.

A sharp rock could be of use, I thought, as I attempted to rip the bottom, dirty layer off from the dress. A sigh of relief escaped my mouth. It easily came off as I also did the same action on my long sleeves. Now they reached above my wrist, like many of the dresses I had seen on peasants in the South.  
The bottom of my dress now reached my ankles, leaving the traces of all lady-ship behind.

I had cleaned myself thoroughly. A wave of freshness went right though my body. I thanked the gods for the small pond. I made sure the pieces of fabric sank into the deep water.

As I got up from the bank, I spotted a small bush behind one of the large rocks. I could not tell what sort of berries grew on the bush. I picked one up from the nearest branch; it was large, grape-shaped and somewhat purple colored. Its outer cover was soft to the touch.  
And then a small thought crept into my mind.  
I might have differed my dress, but what of my face, my hair? Anyone could recognize who I truly was with my sharp auburn locks.  
The berry suddenly cracked in my hand, leaving a dark stain on my fingers.  
I ripped the veil off my head, tugging one of my longest hairs forward.  
The berry's stain would suffice.

A while passed until Sandor called me, checking to see if I was alright. As I washed as much as the dye off my hands, he appeared through the bushes.

"I didn't know a bird could take so long to wash its win-"  
His face contorted into one of disbelief, as he gazed upon my now dark, almost black hair. He even stepped closer, touching the foreign hair.  
"How..Little Bird…", he stuttered, as he held my hair gently.

"I believe the color will stay. I need to gather more berries if it washes off", I explained. Sandor seemed downtrodden. I had known my hair was of some worthwhile beauty, but now our lives were more important than my hair. I would have cut it, but only the gods knew if I needed it to prove myself in the future.

A chuckle escaped Sandor.  
"Try as you might, I don't believe you could ever hide your beauty", he proclaimed.  
I flushed red as I got up to gather more of the berries. As Sandor laughed once again, he knelt down and gathered some water from the pond.  
His armor gleaned from the little light of the stars. He had to get rid of it also.

"Sandor, your armor. Leave it here, throw it in the pond. It will be too obvious."  
A smile crept upon his face, twitching his scar. I remember when I used to be afraid of his smile. Now I welcomed the sight.  
"You are starting to think, Little Bird."  
He proceeded to take off his large chest plate, followed by his lower leg armor. He was left with a simple, long sleeved cotton shirt and dark pants. He made sure to have his large sword fall among his back. I was surprised to see Sandor's large muscular body underneath the layers of protection.  
I looked down at my reflection in the ponds small waves. My black hair was unruly, dirt covered parts of my dull blue dress, making the color seem a brown hue, and my face was tired and worn. I tied my hair into a simple braid falling down my back. It had been more than week since we had left Kings Landing, but it felt like years as I gazed upon my reflection.

The sun began to creep along the trees again. I knew we had to begin to ride once again on the rock covered road. I longed to stay just one night in an inn, or at least see people in the streets once again.  
As we mounted Nero, I strange question formed on my lips.  
"May I ride on the back this morning...?", I quietly asked. "If we approached a town, it will seem as if I were a prisoner or a thief you are escorting."  
Sandor looked in thought, as he held Nero down.  
"It seems the Little Bird surprises an old dog once again. But...will you be comfortable...?", he asked awkwardly. I could not help but giggle. That was the least of my worries.  
He mounted first, holding Nero steady as I tried my best to climb the large horse. It would be harder than I imagined. To my dismay, Sandor laughed a hearty cackle.  
"Still a frail little bird, aren't we?"  
I glared at him through my dark hair.  
A gasp escaped me as he grabbed my waist lifting my body up into the back of Nero. My back was closely touching Sandors as he pulled hard on the beast's reins, pushing it forward. His large back felt hard but surprisingly comfortable. I could not help but lay against it as I watched the early birds fly above us. If I was not mistaken, I could feel Sandors rigid back soften against my own.

I knew we were both hungry again. We had to stop eventually or our enemies could hear our stomachs howling from afar.

It was after the sun was right above us that Sandor suddenly stopped Nero.  
"I recognized this land. I can smell the rotting fish."  
I had no idea what he was declaring; this lush landscape smelled of flowers and summer.  
"We are only a few lengths from Seagard. There is a small fishing village near it named Tintouth, housing a lake. We will need to buy provisions there."  
I had not heard of this Tintouth but the thought of seeing townspeople again lightened my spirits.  
Sandor turned and faced me.  
"Is that alright, Little Bird? We are far from Lannister lands. There are only peasants and fishermen in this town," he proclaimed.  
"Yes, it will best if we find supplies. We could stay at an inn of sorts...could we?", I asked meekly. I did not think my back could take sleeping on the ground one more day.  
"Heh, I see Little Bird."  
Sandor reached for his pocket and laid out the few coins left to our name.  
"It'll give us some food, but a night at an inn? Seven Hells."  
There had to be something of value, something we could sell to give us some comfort. I felt among my dress for a button or at least a adornment that could be sold. A gasped at the beautiful sight. My waist harbored small intricate silver beads, worthy of at least some value. I slowly and delicately started taking them off my dress.  
I handed them to Sandor with the biggest smile I could fathom.  
He laughed at the sight.  
"That'll do."

Soon the small quaint gates of Tintouth greeted us. We blended surprisingly well among the townfolk: fisherman selling their fresh catch, women washing their clothes in the dirt streets, and marketplaces busy with sales. The buildings were made of burgundy colored brick, dusty and torn with age. Streets were not made from cobblestones but firm yellow sand. It was very hot among the crowds, a faint wind blowing through the structures. I walked closely behind Sandor as he led Nero through the other horses.

The Tintouth marketplace was a busy place for such a small town. Men and women yelled their prices as children tried to take sweets from vendors. I blushed and looked away at a corner full of young attractive women selling their own specialties. There were very few guards around the marketplace and even fewer around the town.  
"Stay close to me, Little Bird", Sandor warned as he tied Nero to the town's posts.  
In front of the posts there laid a wide colorful shop, adorned with pieces of jewelry of all shapes and sizes. An old, yet dazzling maiden stood tantalizing passerbys with her offers.  
We approached her cautiously.  
"Ah, and how are we on this fine afternoon...? Mesmerized by the fine displays eh? Do tell, what-"  
"Cut the chatter, woman. These silver beads, I will sell them to you. Name a price", Sandor interrupted.  
The woman's amiable face turned into a sour grimace as she tore the beads from Sandor's hands. She eyed the small bits of jewelry in her ancient hands.  
Without a word, she reached into her bag and pulled out four gold coins.  
"Take it and get out of my sight. Then you'll be able to pay that young whore, now, won't ya?", as she threw the coins into Sandor's hands.  
Sandor scowled at the old women as he put a hard hand on my waist.  
"For an old bat, you don't miss a thing. Move, ya pretty little wench", as he pushed me aside out of the women's gaze.  
As soon as we were near Nero, Sandor released his grasp on my waist.  
"Sorry, Little Bird, had to the necessary." Perhaps being confused as a prostitute will do us more good than harm.  
"No, do not apologize. That is perfect. I will just be another prostitute and you have paid me for the night. I have seen many in this town. It could work, couldn't it?" I looked into his eyes to see some flaw in my plan, but I saw just weariness.  
"I don't...well...", Sandor replied as he thought deeply of this facade.  
"Yes, it could work, Little Bird. But I want you near at every damn second, do you hear? If men even heard a whisper of this, they'd be traveling miles to see you", he declared with scorn.  
I felt that in some strange way this was a compliment.

It was near nightfall when we found the small rundown inn near the edge of the wooden docks of the lake. Sandor paid the innkeeper and asked for a meal as I waited patiently near him. I felt extremely vulnerable as the men in the bar eyed me with desire. I hid behind Sandor as much as I could.

The room was on the second floor of the inn facing the quiet lake. It was a very cramped place, its wooden beams broken down after ages of welcome. I heard the scuttle of rats in the walls. The bed was more like a hay filled mattress on yet another old wooden beam, yet I had never been happier to see such a sight.

"Bloody bastard. What kind of shithole is this?", Sandor swore, as he gazed upon the bed.  
I surveyed the room once more with the light of the lantern at the doorway.  
I looked up at Sandors annoyed face with a small smile.  
"This'll do."

The lake could be seen from a small window. The view was absolutely breathtaking. Lake Minnow, as I quickly learned its name, glowed faintly blue as the small moon reflected its beauty. The stars were blocked by the dust of the town, yet the moon had never looked more stunning.

After eating our meal of bread and watery soup, I sat among the window pane, taking in the sight.  
Sandor sat quietly on the floor adjacent from me, his back to the bed.  
"Careful, Little Bird, you'll catch a cold from the night air."  
I looked back at him in thought.  
"Sandor...do you trust anyone?", I asked as the light night air came rushing in the small window. His dark gray eyes blinked as he looked at me with an odd expression. I heard a small laugh.

"A man shouldn't trust anyone. A man shouldn't even trust his own damn self", he declared without once looking away from my gaze. He had never been more correct.

I looked upon the moon once again as my lips found themselves speaking again.

"I trust you."

His eyes softened.

"You shouldn't trust me, Little Bird. I am just a dog, but hell knows when I could bite that pretty little neck of yours", he professed, as he held his sword in his arms. There were times his manner of speaking would frighten me; now it did nothing but make me want to be in his presence.

"I do not trust myself. I do not trust men. And I do not trust women", I stated as Sandor seemed a bit more pleased.

"But I will always trust you."

Sandor glanced at me, tried to fight a smile but lost his battle.

"And you will always be a foolish little bird", he avowed.

I felt myself doze off on the window panel, dreaming of the pleasant moons light on the water. The earth came together and met at the edge of the horizon, as the dust settled enough to see at least one striking star.

Strong hands picked me up effortlessly off the ground and placed me into the hay bed. Sandor did not realize I was awake.

I felt a warm hand tug a few disobedient hairs behind my ears. My body felt weightless as a warm hand touched my cheek down unto my lips, tracing them with soft agility.

The hand stopped rapidly as I heard Him fall wordlessly into the corner.

I fought to keep myself conscious, yet the strength of sleep took over, drifting me off into a peaceful slumber.


	8. Chapter 7

Her skin felt as soft as porcelain. Warmth radiated from her cheeks as her chest rose gently from her small breaths. I hadn't even noticed my hand tracing the Little Birds lips.

What in bloody hell was I thinking?

I retracted my hand away from her as silently as I could.

I hadn't felt like such a fool in ages.

The corner would be my bed for the night. It was better if I stayed away from the Little Bird; it would be for her own good.

I was restless all throughout the night. I dreamt the same dream yet again. Blood covered my hands as my knees gave in to the pressure on my shoulders. The sky was a scarlet hue. The Little Bird stood a ways from me, a smile as radiant as the sun on her face. And then, in an instant, she was gone. And I feared the blood on my hands was not of my own.

Was I a danger to her? Did I threaten her life...?

I could feel the sweat pour down my neck as I awoke in the inn. The night was soundless, except for the Little Birds breathing.

It took my whole strength to keep from approaching her once again.

My hands yearned to feel her delicate face.

Seven fucking Hells.

...

The morning was surprisingly chilly. I awoke to the sounds of chickens, the townspeople already busy so early in the morning. The rays of the warm sun crept along the stone window.

I could barely keep my eyes open as the suns light softly hit my face. Instantly, I could feel my lips warmer than usual. And then I remembered the night before. Could it have been a dream...?

I could faintly feel the gentle hand follow the curvature of my lips.

No...it could have not have been real. He would not have done such a thing.

Yes. It was just a dream.

Yet, part of me did not want it to be.

I had not even noticed the emptiness of the room. The small wooden room was barren as I looked around my surroundings.

Sandor was gone.

I told myself to calm down, but I could feel my heartbeat increase. Where had he gone...? Had he finally gotten tired and rid himself of the burden...?

I got up from the creaky bed, standing and ignoring the stiffness of my limbs.

Had he abandoned me..? I...I would not have minded. I knew he would have eventually become tired of running around with a cowardly girl. But he could have said farewell. I had not noticed the tears already beginning to fall.

A large thump was heard at the door. Suddenly the door swung opened as Sandor walked in with a parcel in hand. My eyes widened at the sight.

"Aren't you going to sing? Usually little birds sing a melody or two in the morni-", he stopped suddenly as he looked at me.

He had discerned my reddened face and watery eyes. Oh no, I thought. I did not want him to know I had been afraid he had left, that he had gone from my life.

"Little Bird, what the hell has happened? Has there been someone here? I'll kill the bloody bastard and-"

I looked downward, hiding my childish tears.

"Nothing. I just... nothing, do not fret about it. "

He did not seem convinced.

"Truly", I continued, "everything is alright. I did not see you and thought you had gone. That's all."

He frowned as he dropped the parcel unto the bed.

"I thought I made it clear, Little Bird."

Like he always did when he wanted to prove something of importance, he cupped my chin and held my face inches from his.

"I'm not leaving you."

I smiled a true smile, as he became red and let go of my chin.

He chuckled as he sat on the bed.

"Besides, I'm a wanted man, aren't I? I'm dead anyway. Might as well have a merry little voyage."

He took the small parcel and began unwrapping it.

"What is that?", I asked curiously. It smelled quite lovely.

"Heh, maybe your little plan has worked for us, Little Bird. A dirty little man gave me this little present just because of you. "

The parcel contained fresh bread and baked fish. The aroma filled the room in seconds. I could feel my stomach growl.

"Wait! It could be poisoned, Sandor! Please be careful."

I warned him as he took the bread and divided into two.

"This isn't poisoned, Little Bird. That bastard just wants you and thought he could buy you with some food." He laughed as he took a bite of the fish.

It seemed I was wrong.

We ate our breakfast and left the inn as fast as we could. We could not stay in Tintouth for long. Part of me will miss the busy town.

We rode almost two days through the countryside. I could feel the heat dwindle down to a soft chill as we rode closer and closer to the North. Sandor and I only stopped when necessary. There were times I wanted to get off of Nero and walk among the flowers or plains but I knew Sandor would think it foolish.

I knew we were near Winterfell. Our surroundings slowly became filled with dark green hills and rocky soil.

My heart became lighter with Nero's every step.

I wanted to arrive soon, to feel the coldness of the North. But I knew we had to stop for the night and rest. Nero had been running endlessly for days. I made sure to find a treat for him.

The cold had settled among us. We would stay on the hidden side of a large hill. I started to build a fire as the full moon appeared slowly behind the plains. It took upon a yellow hue, then shifting to a white milky color. Its beauty had distracted me for too much time; the flames of the fire had touched my hand.

A small scream escaped my lips while a dark, red burn appeared on the top of my left hand. The pain was indescribable.

Sandor was at my side in seconds.

"Damn it all, Little Bird, what have you done to yourself?"

He took my hand as he stroked it gently; the pain slightly melted away.

Without a word, Sandor ripped a part of his sleeve and wrapped my hand into a warm ball. Although the aching would continue for the rest of the night, the searing pain had diminished.

"Stay away from the flame, girl. And thank your gods it was your hand. Another part of your body and you wouldn't be standing", Sandor declared as he sat next to me.

He knew what it felt to have hell pierce his body. His face was a constant reminder.

I held my hand softly.

"Thank you. I appreciate everything you have done", I replied.

He laughed as he looked up at the stars. I smiled to myself. We had spent too much time together.

"I mean my thanks, Sandor. You may not think it true, but I mean every word."

I said this as fiercely as I could. Maybe then he would believe me.

It seemed to work as Sandor looked away and mumbled something under his breath.

What does he think about? He was such a guarded man, spoke only when necessary, and swung his sword the rest of the time.

But on this night, I wanted to speak to him. Something pulled me forward, closer to him.

"Sandor…", I began to say. He always had that slightly annoyed expression. But I continued against my better judgment.

"What is on your mind, at this very second?", I asked casually. The instant the words left my lips, I felt extremely imprudent. Yet, I waited for an answer.

Surprisingly, Sandor chuckled.

"My brothers head on a spike", he replied with scorn.

I subconsciously stroked my throbbing hand as he spoke. I knew he was thinking of more, but I did not want to upset him.

The moon was just above our heads while the small fire cracked. In the corner of my eye, I could see Sandor stroke the scorched side of his face. It was not the first time had seen him do this action. Although the burn occurred many years ago, the pain seemed to still trouble him.

I rose from the fire and knelt beside him.

Part of my being screamed at me for such un-ladylike act.

The other part screamed back in defiance: no longer.

Sandor looked shocked at the small space between us. I grasped his face with my hands, ignoring the pain from my left.

I began to gently stroke his burn just as he had done to mine. His steel eyes soften to a metallic haze. The aggressiveness that was always apparent had disappeared.

I smiled as his dark eyes met mine.

And at that moment, I could remember the first time I saw him in Kings Landing, the times he had saved me, and the times he was my only comfort.

And now, it was my turn.

It was rapid, but it left warmth on my lips.

I kissed his charred cheek, as I closed my eyes under the stars. It was a simple gesture, similar to the thanks I had given Lord Tyrion. But this kiss felt different.

It felt true.

He would leave me soon, I knew it. I would see my household again, and Sandor would go, find his own home and leave in peace. Before I had realized it, my heart began to ache.

This time, He would leave me.

I rose before he could say a word as I walked up the hill with the help of the moons light.

Winterfell was among those small peaks. I could feel the cold through my veins. It called me forward.

I glanced above me once again. A bright shooting star passed swiftly below the moon. I wished for vengeance against those who had hurt anyone I loved.

I wished for guidance, I wished for strength.

I wished for peace.

Thanks to those that have reviewed/favorited ! They are greatly appreciated . All storyline including Tintouth was created by yours truly.

I will try to update very soon! :)

~Adryanna


	9. Chapter 8

Those lips had left a new burn on my already hideous cheek.

But I welcomed this pain.

As she walked away from me, my hands pulled at her shadow, to embrace her, to feel her skin once again.

I did not know what spell she had put on me.

The Little Birds slim silhouette shown against the dark wilderness before her. She would always be a Lady of Winterfell, but she knew she was more.

I walked up the steep hill toward her, her dark hair blending in with her surroundings.

I did not have to say a word.

She kept looking forward, ready to run.

Gently, I held her shoulder, for comfort, for strength.

Soon, Little Bird, soon.

Nero galloped as fast his strong legs could hold; I could feel his heartbeat under my legs. Dawn was approaching steadily, the cloudy gray sky cracked with beautiful orange rays.

The temperature had dropped severely, the chilly wind blowing against us.

The cold felt wonderful as it roughly touched my face. It reminded me of home.

And there it was on the horizon. The large castle stood upon the barren hillside, the smallest rays of morning sun touching its structures.

Could it have been another beautiful dream, I thought to myself, as a held on to Sandor's hard back.

Was this real?

Suddenly, my body beckoned me to run. I jumped off of Nero's back as deftly as I could, ignoring Sandor's yells. And my stiff legs did the rest.

I ran as hard as I have ever ran in my entire life. My lungs could have burst and I would not have known. I could feel the grass beneath my thin shoes, brushing past my legs with the wind guiding me. I swear I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. Closer and closer the castle beckoned. I would see them again; my family would smile and I would embrace my loved ones. The closer I ran toward the castle, the harder my heart would start to ache.

Something was wrong.

As I approached the large hill, Winterfell looked the same as I had left it so many years ago. I had left it as a naïve, twelve year old girl looking for princes and white steeds. And now I return, almost five years later, a wanted traitor.

The castle became more apparent each second, the frigid wind reminding me so much of my childhood.

But my legs suddenly stopped moving.

I looked among the columns of my home. I looked toward the grand intimating gates.

There was not a single person in sight. Even the peaceful farmers and cattle that usually grazed on the hills had disappeared. The typical guards were gone. The transcendent sound of dire wolves racing among the grass...

Gone.

No, it could not be. I started walking as fast as I could while catching my breath. I could not stare away from Winterfell; the castle had frozen my gaze.

Sandor was behind me, asking if I was not harmed, or if I was alright. He went on to reprimand me about jumping of the horse, but I could not hear him. His yells fell on my deaf ears as I finally stood in the courtyard of Winterfell.

It was just as I remembered it so many years ago. Memories of my past shifted rapidly in my mind. I could hear everyone, their voices, troubles, and lullabies. But that was all that there was.

Memories.

I had completely forgotten Sandor, as his warm hand touched my shoulder. I looked at him for answers, for the reason of the dreaded silence. But in his eyes I could see disappointment.

I found myself walking once again, toward my old room. The corridors that once were so welcoming now seemed desolate, barren in the dust.

The filth on my furniture and bed took the appearance of snow. Most of my belongings were gone also.

Sandor never left my side.

One of the small jewelry boxes laid closed on one the wooden shelves. I remembered the days my handmaiden would pin my hair with all sorts of beautiful adornments. I opened the intricate box to find one small, silver barrette. It had a small crystal flower embedded in the small opening. It had dulled to a rusty metallic color.

I closed my hand over it and placed it in my small pocket. Maybe I could use it in the future. Maybe it could come of use.

I stood in front of the gates once again. And I realized I had no tears left to fall. My eyes ached and my heart felt as heavy as stone. Yet, my tears were dry.

"Little Bird, I…", Sandor started to speak. But there was no explanation. I knew Winterfell had been through battles. I could not have been so foolish as to think it would have stood years of no invasions or wars.

But I had been foolish once again.

The people of Winterfell had been wise. They must have left the castle for their own good, I knew it. Bran and Rickon, Old Nan and Hodor, my handmaidens, and my Fathers loyal followers…they must still be alive. They were safe, maybe even hiding like myself in the dark.

Until one day, our winter will come. And we will strike down.

At last I could see one shred of hope. The Godswood stood untouched by time. I approached the mystical trees as they seemed to glower back. Scarlet leaves fell like snow on the rocky ground. My mother used to pray under these same trees.

Why had I not realized this beauty so many years ago?

The oldest wierwood stood in front of me, its ancient face gleaming. Its image reflected off the black pond surrounding the enormous trunk. When I was younger, the olden face used to frighten me.

Now all I wanted to do was gaze at it until the end of my days.

Sandor stood a little ways from me, his presence continuing to comfort me.

"The trees. They have not been touched by war, or disease, or even sadness", I said softly. I wanted to smile at him, to be assured of some hope for the both of us. My heavy eyes started to water, but I held them back with all my might. I wanted to be strong.

But the foolish, cowardly girl continued to cradle back into its nest.

I slowly fell onto the ground, into the pile of soft rosy leaves. I had never felt this type of despair. It was then that everything fell. The pain was unbearable. I wanted to pray, just like my mother had done countless times, but the prayers did not come.

Sandor wordlessly ran to me, as his muscular arms wrapped me in warmth so searing, it felt like summer. He had held me before, that irrevocable night I had killed another. But now I could feel his own demeanor change, his hands become gentle, his voice, once a battle cry dimming to a caressing whisper.

"Your war begins now, Little Bird."

His steel eyes met mine. A jolt of fire could be felt among his arms beckoning me even closer to his chest.

Sandor had never gazed at me in this way.

The leaves rustled as the icy wind blew among the dark treetops. My arms were still holding unto to him, his large chest breathing hard against mine.

The space between us diminished as his warm lips fell upon my own, his arms encircling my body into a gentle embrace. I could feel my whole body flush red as his lips moved against mine.

I could not think. I could not move. I could only feel his lips, his touch, and the rhythm of his dance on my mouth, swaying me off from this earth and into a calm oblivion.

Winterfell, Joffrey, death, and pain melted away. The gray sky had become clearer.

I knew I could not leave those arms again.

…..

Thanks again to those that have read and reviewed! It might be a few days until I can update again; busy times are approaching! But I hope you have enjoyed the story so far! :)- Adryanna


	10. Chapter 9

I had forgotten every sense of my body as I entwined my fingers in her silk hair. My rash instincts had done the unthinkable; I knew I couldn't control the bloody impulse. And it was then that I had destroyed her pure lips. They felt like the clouds above us, depthless, as I felt the yearnings of a young man.

What was I thinking?

My mind felt finally at peace. And for that small moment between her minuscule chest and mine, I felt, without flaws, without the disastrous face of mine. The Little Bird had made me feel unbounded.

Her smell, springs of light flowers mixed with the pain of fear. I could smell everything. It engulfed me with a passion I had never felt before.

I was not like some inexperienced youngling; I had met countless whores in my lifetime. But this kiss…

But the dream had faded quickly as I realized the stupid mistake I had done.

What the bloody fuck was I thinking?

My conscience screamed at me to let her go, to let her out of this torture. I released her body as her perfect face met mine with eyes full of horror… no…. was it longing?

I shook my head of all ridiculous thoughts. I wanted to apologize, to take back my absurd actions.

Footsteps sounded behind the trees as I unsheathed my sword.

…..

The kiss had left me dumbfounded. I had not awakened from the Sandors grasp in time to notice the old man walking toward us among the woods. As he approached us, I noticed more clearly his shriveled, yet amiable face, walking with a stiff ancient cane. He dressed as a Northerner, with a heavy shall and wooly clothes. His back was slightly curved, as his years seemed to weaken his every breath. His countenance seemed slightly familiarly, yet no faces came to mind.

He observed us suddenly as he just noticed the two strangers in front of him. I knew he stared at Sandor the longest; there was no denying his immense stature.

"Oh, good 'noon. I haven't seen travelers in months, I haven't. This is strange sight", he declared. I thought quickly for a lie to tell the old man; after weeks of running and avoiding death, this would not be our downfall.

"Hello, sir. My uncle and I have been traveling again to Winterfell…to see it again, since we had been working for a herdsman on the grounds many years ago", I proclaimed, as calmly as I could. I hoped to the gods he had not seen us only a few seconds ago, that the man did not recognize me as a Stark. I needed to be just another girl in the North.

"Ah yes, like many of us, we mourn what was a strong and honorable land. Years I worked for the Stark family, I cherished them. I was proud to serve 'em, I was. Those damn Greyjoys, may they rot in hell, ahem, excuse me my language, child. They ransacked the land, left it deserted for other vile men to steal….".

His words fell in a soft whisper as his eyes closed at the memories. I immediately felt no animosity from this man, just proper sympathy. It could have been a foolish thought, but I knew I could trust him. The news of the Greyjoys attacks were small rumors I was lucky to hear in Kings Landing, yet I never knew if they were true. As I remembered my still and abandoned castle, the fog-filled pieces filled together to form a clear explanation. My mind understood, but my heart ignored.

I felt once again like the spoiled, foolish child I was more than five years ago. I wanted happiness. I wanted everything to be like the stories. I wanted safety. I wanted a brave prince-

I could feel Sandor eyes on my neck. Against my wishes, my cheeks turned the bright color of the leaves of the trees around us.

Surely….that kiss…

I doubted the happening. No, it was not so. Yet…

I could feel my lips. They were warm, despite the frigid environment. They beckoned the touch again.

The old man brought me back from the sky.

"So child, as you see before you, this is the life left of the Starks here. The gods only know where the Heirs are. Weirlily prays for their safe return."

The foreign name alerted my curiosity.

"Sir, what is Weirlily…? I have never heard of this city. Is it near…?", I asked meekly. I did not want to seem too inquiring.

"Oh yes, well, after Winterfell's abandonment, the many that stayed loyal to the Starks had faith in their leader and their eventual return; they stayed near the grounds. Winters passed, yes, but the few who remain live in the Weirlily, the refuge land. I have lived there since it was established, I have. We stay rooted until the day the wolf once again flies in the sky."

The man's face smiled as I felt drawn to this place. The few people that called that place home were not enemies. They remained faithful to my father after so many years of his death.

"How far is it, old man?", Sandors hoarse voice awakened me from my thoughts. I felt myself not being able to meet his gaze. He stood at my side, straight like an arrow.

As if the kiss had never happened.

"Ah just a small walk from here. I am heading toward my home there; I will guide you, yes? It is a welcoming refuge for all. Oh how rude of me, I am called Fredric."

At that moment, I thought about my fate. My home was empty, empty of life, of love, and of happiness. I could not think correctly. It seemed Weirlily was the only we could stay. I had to trust this man, I repeated to myself. Until I could decide what I would do, I had to trust him. I could see he was expecting me to introduce myself and my "uncle". Yet my mouth stayed shut. It was Sandor who spoke.

"I am Rowan, and my niece is named Isabel. We have traveled far; your hospitality will be appreciated".

My once silent mouth fell as the words came calmly and naturally from his lips. It seemed Fredric believed Sandors words, nodded his approval, and started his way toward the small path out of the Weirwood. I could not say a word; my lips refused to move. It was as if the Kiss had sealed them away.

As we left the once safe grounds of Winterfell, the small plains of the North appeared. Among them, a quaint wooden town gleamed among the green pasture. As Sandor held Nero steady among the rocky path, Fredric talked on about his own beginnings and late wife he missed dearly. I tried to pay attention, but my mind was swimming.

The town of Weirlily was more likely to be called a few wood houses and a stable, yet it had its own charm. There were more animals than people, and some woman cooking over small fires. A few stands sold bread and water, the necessary for any human to survive. Nero was left on a small post outside what seemed to be Fredric's house. All was quiet.

Fredrick lived in a small shack made out of the same material as the other larger houses. It harbored two rooms, the kitchen/his own bedroom, and an even smaller spare bedroom. It smelled of warm hay. He led us to the back room, leaving Sandor and I alone once again.

I could feel the awkward fidgeting of our bodies. I had not looked at him since the Weirwood.

We were alone in the small, cramped room, yet all I could do was breath.

The cold seeped through the cracks of the walls. I had not noticed the freezing air, nor had realized the shivering of my lips.

"Little Bird, open that little beak of yours and sing something, won't you?", as he took off his rough outer shirt. He placed it on my shoulders as the immediate warmth calmed my shaking. He stood in front of me, as I met his steel eyes.

"I…what happened in…",I stammered to find the words. I looked again into the chasm of his dark eyes. I felt it again; the irrevocable feeling, my lips shaking again, yet not from the cold.

His great, warm hands grasped mine, encircling them into one. Sandor gazed at me with the same desire I had seen before.

Rapidly, his eyes fell to the ground, swearing to the gods.

"I-….I'm sorry, Little Bird."

He walked from the room, shutting the door behind him.

My hands yearned for the warmth, as my heart felt a new and different pain.


	11. Chapter 10

Hey guys! I apologize for not being able to update sooner; college can be quite hectic. But I will be able to update more frequently now! Thanks to those that have reviewed/favorite/and or followed. I really appreciate it! :)

Well here's the new update and look for another new update this week!

Love-Adryanna, anightshadefromdisturbed

* * *

Never in my life had I hated myself more. What have I done to the Little Bird?

Those bloody knights.

I'm as rotten as them, aren't I?

I had to bring her to safety soon. Away from the rabid Lions once and for all.

And away from me.

I left the room with the touch of her small hands lingering on mine. I knew the thudding in my chest would cease. It had to.

The old man stood in the small crevice of a kitchen, combining some herbs into a pot.

"Ah, ... yes, I need a strong man to help an older one", he proclaimed as he gestured me near the pot. I was in no mood for silly little conversations, but I owed this man for his hospitality. I forced a small smile.

"Here, we all need our stomachs full. Do me a favor, lad, and cut these potatoes, will you? And maybe we can have ourselves some stew. My old wife taught me a mighty recipe, she did. You and your niece have been traveling, awhile yes?"

Pissed as I was for being called a lad, I had to respond.

"Yes, weeks... It was useless." I didn't mean to say the last words. A sad grin appeared on the old mans wrinkled face.

"The Starks will come again, they will. Summer might be warm and fill our hearts with comfort, but the real power comes when the snow falls and the wolves begin to howl." The old man was evidently just a naive, hopeful fool, yet I strangely felt more tranquil.

As I cut the vegetables, I tried to avoid sentimentalities. This man was full of them. I glanced swiftly to my right, curious of the silence coming from my side.

He was not staring at my face, like many fucks would do. I was surprised to meet the old mans eyes, burrowing deep into mine.

His countenance shown curiosity, but his eyes shown revelation.

The man smiled once again, took another knife and potato, and slowly made his way to a small chair. Sighing heavily, he sat on the rickety wood and continued cutting.

Damn this man.

I felt no animosity from him, but I couldn't take the sight of those eyes from my mind. He couldn't be Lannister.

I didn't know how to explain if but I knew he was no enemy. My mind ran as I cut the last bloody potato.

I would have prayed for safety, if there were such things as gods.

* * *

I had drifted subconsciously on the small rock-like bed. My eyes felt heavy as I lifted myself up, flinching at the soreness of my back. I reminded myself quickly that Sandor had left; I prayed he had not left for long.  
It was dark already, the owls hooting away in the thin trees outside of the man's shack. My braided hair fell disheveled unto my shoulders; the berries dark dye had faded away to a brown similar to my mothers.

I avoided thinking about my family again. I did not need to linger in the past. I would see them soon. That thought kept my feet moving forward into a road I knew would be even more dangerous.

I would face even more peril, and in the face of peril, little girls would not survive.

I walked out of the cramped room into the main space of the shack. The smell of damp wood filled my lungs. I could smell a sort of stew brewing in the fireplace and sound of snoring coming from a small chair in the corner.  
Fredric had fallen asleep on the miniature table, warmed by the fire. The delicious scent of the stew brewed on, and my stomach soon agreed. An echoing low howl escaped my belly. At that, Fredric bolted up from his chair, wondering where the deadly animal was. He noticed me as I flushed scarlet; he could not help but laugh.

"Hungry, arent we? Come, come, child! It's quite hot, it is", he stated as he led me to the table. Soon, a small plate of vegetable broth was place in front of me. I devoured the steaming stew in a matter of minutes.

"I do not know how I can repay you for your kindness. My uncle and I will surely remember this. We will not be a nuisance for long, departing-". At this, Fredric smiled yet again and stopped me. "Oh, foolish talk. You may stay as long as you like. Any friend of the Starks is a friend of Weirlily."

Maybe there were still good-hearted people in this world.

"You can't leave yet, child. Tomorrow is the name day of one of the Stark children. It has been so many years, yet we do try to still remember their name days. The village folk leave lilies around the castle walls each year the third week of November. We try to be in remembrance of all the Stark Children...", Fredric proclaimed sorrowfully.

My eyes fell on the empty bowl. It must have been months since our escape. What had it been, three, four months? It could have been more and I would not have noticed. Yet I knew what tomorrow brought.

My eighteenth name day.

What would my younger self think? I was eighteen years of age, a murderer and a traitor. Oh she would have been quite disappointed.

Fredric's question brought me back to the present.

"Are you alright, child?"

Oh, I-I would just like some more stew please", I mustered some excuse. As he brought me back another serving, he gestured to the corner of the kitchen, where a beautiful vermillion single lily stood in a makeshift old vase.

"I made sure for it to be one of a kind flower. I found it in the Weirwood. I bet it's enchanted, I do", Fredric declared.

I had to make sure not to show any kind of emotion, but I found it to be quite difficult after witnessing such dedication.

"Weirlily will be recompensed for their unflattering Starks will come again. Well, th-that's what I pray for," I stated.

I could swear a saw a small tear in his eyes.

The door suddenly opened to reveal Sandor's large figure. "Ah, lad, there you are! Have some stew."

Without even letting Sandor respond, Fredric stood and brought back a full bowl, setting it on the table. Sandor mumbled a thank you; he did not stay long, however, grabbing the bowl and going into the smaller, visitor's room.

My eyes followed him until the closing of the wooden door. The sound fell silently, and I felt as if I had done something wrong, out of place. I resisted the urge to go and see him. I felt as if I was to blame for everything.

My mind brought be back to the occurrence in the Wierwood; did he regret what had happened...?

The snores coming from the chair next to me brought my eyes upon the culprit. Fredric had fallen asleep once again. But I was fully awake.

I opened the small opening of a door into the empty streets of Weirlily. The faint sounds of voices and children in their beds could be heard, while the animals on their posts dreamed. The only lights were the small lanterns illuminating the sandy walkways. I walked a bit on toward the other end of the village; It only took me a few moments of a walk.

Nero was tied to a post near the outside of the village, nuzzling surprisingly gently on a nearby tree. I suddenly remembered the dye berries I had put in his saddle many weeks ago; it seemed I had to approach the deadly beast.

I instantly stopped moving as his eyes met mine. Expecting him to attack, I started pacing away slowly. To my own astonishment, Nero only softly neighed and continued eating. I knew I could not trust Him, but I needed to reach his saddle. I was only a few measures from him.

I found my own hand reaching to touch his immense head. There were voices in my head shouting at my stupidity, yet I continued. I slowly petted his muzzle gently; he did not take his eyes off of me, but I could feel him finally relax at my touch. After a few moments, I searched the berries in the saddle. Due to the constant riding and to my own dismay, I could only find two small berries intact.

That would have to suffice.

I returned to Fredric's home, my hair slightly darker than before; I was not very shocked at his blaring snoring. I suppressed a giggle.

Dawn would be approaching soon. And I would be a year older. Who would have known so much would have changed?

The door to the smaller room was still closed. I opened the door to find Sandor leaning against the stiff wooden wall, leaving the bed vacant. I did not want to wake him; I would have offered the more comfortable bed, but I sensed he would just push me away.

I took the only warm object in the room, the thin blanket on the bed, and softly laid it on his chest, trying to cover his immense body. He nestled nervously, but continued his sleep. Hesitantly, I reached out and cupped his face, feeling the scruff of his chin. He seemed to move into my hand, relaxing at the warmth I hoped to give him. Soon, I found my own bed. I had not realized how exhausted I was until my head fell against the hay bed.

As my eyes closed, I swore I saw Sandor, wide awake, following my every move.

The sayings were true; a rider is just as good as his horse.


	12. Chapter 11

My hands were covered in a warm substance, thick and dark in the light of the surrounding night. And a fire began to burn around me, as I looked down at my hands again. Blood, not mine, but the Lannister assassin's. His body laid before me, burning into dust.

In the horizon of the black abyss, a dire wolf the color of ashes stared at my hands, and slowly lifted it's face to mine. All I could feel is guilt.

And something incomprehensible.

But I felt it.

Power.

At that moment, the dire wolf opened its huge jaws, devouring the burned body of the assassin. And then it was not the wolf, but I, surrounded by corpses. There was one that burned brighter than the others. Sandor's previously burned face now matched with his body; he laid there, unmoving and silent.

Only a whisper was heard.

"Little Bird..."

My scream must have woken the whole village of Weirlily. Sweat hung to my raggedy dull dress. I was able to calm myself down, reminding myself that it was just a horrid nightmare.

I looked toward the small opening of a window; the sky was dark, and I could smell rain approaching.

How long had I slept?

And then I remembered what day it was.

It was my eighteenth name day, but I felt as if I had aged decades in these past few months.

The gray clouds took me back to the stony walls of Winterfell, where I would usually be woken up by my father and mother, blessings and all. My family would be reunited in the main hall, accompanied by the members of Winterfells council. A great feast would follow; my favorite meals and delicacies were served, including the wonderful lemon cakes I used to covet.

Every year, I would receive countless gifts, quaint little objects from the peasants of the castle to exotic gowns from the south coast of Westeros.

But now, the greatest gift I could receive on this day was staying alive.

The streets outside my window seemed strangely quiet. It seemed to be late in the afternoon.

As I opened the door to the kitchen, I was not very shocked to see the wooden home empty. Fredric and the rest of the village must have been off to their journey to the Winterfell walls. If the gods still had not forsaken me, I prayed for their safe return.

A single bowl laid on the table, covered in a thin handkerchief. It revealed a small loaf of bread and cheese, with a few ripe slices of fruit.

My stomach growled lowly; I hoped this was supposed to be my breakfast, since I could not wait to devour it.

I made sure to remember to thank Fredric for his kindness; it truly knew no bounds.

Hours passed, and the house remained empty. I found my mind wondering where was Sandor and of his safety. I knew he would be alright, but that did not stop me from worrying.

It was near sundown when the door finally opened. I stood up from the table, expecting Fredric, but it was Sandor, holding a few fish on a rod and a small leather bag. His clothes appeared damp; he must have gone to a nearby river.

Immediately I could feel the strange tension between us. He looked at me and quickly turned away, setting the fish on the table.

I was about to summon some courage and address him, but Sandor was quicker.

"If I have to cut another damn potato, I might just cut the whole house down", he proclaimed. I smiled at how grumpy he would become over the simplest things.

"I am just thankful we have some food; Fredric has been too kind," I grinned.

Sandor rebutted with a grumble.

And then silence.

I wanted to converse with him, about anything really. But I could not take the feel of his lips off my mind.

I looked away quickly as my face flushed red.

"Little Bird..."

I looked back at where he stood but was astounded at how close he was to me. He had moved so silently,

Sandor pulled the small leather bag from his belt. I felt like a child again, curious as to see what was in the miniature bag.

He gently pulled the tassels, gently unwrapping a dirty cloth.

A gasp escaped my lips.

A small, but beautiful cream-colored pearl attached to a thin string. He lifted it in his hands, showing the delicate necklace.

"It might not be what a Lady is accustomed to, but I wouldn't forget a Little Birds name day, would I?"

He walked behind me and slowly lifted my braid, revealing the naked skin of my neck. Soon after, I felt the softness of the string and the miniature weight of the pearl on my chest, glistening against the light of the sunset in the room.

It was the most beautiful object I had ever seen.

I had not said a word. My body had frozen at the wonder of the pearl.

"Damn, Little Bird, it isn't that bloody pretty but those damn fish wouldn't let me get a better-"

The tears had overflown my eyelids as I jumped to his arms, holding on to him as hard as I could. I could feel his heart against mine, his large body towering over me. It was then that I felt Sandor breath again, encircling me into his warmth. I could not stop crying.

My body was weak, my limbs sore, but the milky pearl had rejuvenated my strength.

Or was it Sandor...?

My tears fell upon his shoulders as I breathed in the smell of salt and fire.

He stared at me, eyes locked until the space could not be tolerated. His lips found mine, my body suddenly feeling weightless; for that moment, we were not traitors, murderers, nor wanted criminals.

I felt more of a woman than I had ever felt in my entire life.

But the weight soon balanced once again on my shoulders, as the door of

the wooden house opened meekly.

A bewildered, plump woman stood in the doorway holding a small bowl.

The smell of lemon cakes had filled the room.


	13. Chapter 12

The women stared at me with a ferocious intensity that made me unconsciously take a step back, away from Sandor's soft hold. Her small belongings dropped to the ground, followed by her knees giving in unto the dirt. But her face…

I did not remember where I had seen it. But there was a familiarity to her kind features and wrinkled cheeks that sent a shiver through my back likes the wind from the North.

"My Lady….It….It really is you…You are alive!", she proclaimed, as her mouth met my hands swiftly, kissing my skin with severe faithfulness. I still could not recognize her face. But her scent swept me into a bizarre nostalgia as I could remember the old Hall at Winterfell.

All the ancient lanterns were lighted, along with the grand chandelier lighted like the sun among the men and women of the court. I could remember every detail, although it had been so many years away from happiness, from comfort. My siblings smiled among their great plates of their favorite meals, all sparkling with herbs and spices. Mother and Father were keeping their most serious facades, occasionally bursting into grins.

And on my plate, a beautiful embellished silver platter, laid three lemon cakes, glossed with yellow sugar icing with a single blackberry on each top. The happiness in my stomach could not be explained.

And among the dancing ladies and lords, among the knights in armor, and among the kind peasants, a familiar face was spotted.

Kind features and wrinkled cheeks.

And the woman at my feet was not really a stranger. Her cakes had built my childhood. And now she was at my feet.

I did not know her name, but I hugged her as hard as I could. She smelt of home.

It was not too soon after that I sat her down on the wooden table, calmed her down as much I could, as she cried tears of happiness. I could not help but cry as I could see the lemon cakes, crumbled in her arms. It was not too long until I found out her name. Aerisa worked for thirteen years at Winterfell, responsible for all the baked goods served.

"Fredric had told me of the rumor, that you were safe, that you were free…But I could not believe it until I saw you, My Lady!", she smiled her crooked, beautiful smile.

"Well, I had to make sure it was safe for you to see her. There are ears everywhere, as little as this town is, I hear", Fredric warned. Confusion hit me.

"Sir, when…how did you know…?" I asked as I tried putting the pieces together.

"Oh child, Winterfell is my second home. I was herding the fields while Robb was born. I remember those new cries of new life. And soon, you came along. Oh yes I recognized you in the Weirwood, I did."

They were not my true family but I had not felt so welcomed in years. I did not remember Fredric, but I knew he was there, in my past. His loyalty was enough for my heart to trust.

Sandor had been silent the entire time, standing near the stone kitchen. As I smile up at him, Aerisa seemed to notice our gazing.

"Ah yes, your _Uncle_...correct?" she beamed mischievously. At this Fredric began to chuckle as my cheeks turned scarlet. I explained Sandor's true identity, but it seemed they knew the truth already.

It was dark, near midnight, when the conversation finally died. We talked endlessly about my home, the laughs and the miseries, and that "damn" wind, as Fredric recalled. Sandor did not say many words; I knew he was letting me enjoy this moment.

I constantly reminded myself they were not my mother and father, yet my heart fought against me.

Soon, Aerisa guided Fredric to his bed. She departed from the house, promising to visit again tomorrow. Bowing to me at the doorstep and putting the bag filled with small lemon cakes in my hand, she smiled and walked home in the small light of the moon.

Sandor had fallen asleep on the dirt floor, his small snores echoing in the guest room. The crescent moon seemed to dip into the lake; I could hear a faint owl in the tree nearby my window.

My sleep drifted between peace and war. Happiness and sadness. But there were just dreams. The loud thud resounding in my ears told me differently.

Strong hands shook me awake.

"Little Bird…Little Bird, wake up!" he whispered violently. By the look in his eyes and the beads of sweat on his brow, I knew something was terribly wrong. My thin nightshift clinged to my skin as Sandor pushed me near the window behind him.

"What is ha-", I started to ask but Sandor focused on the noises outside of our wooden room. The door of the room was half closed, giving us a small view of the living space; the noises seemed to reach us in seconds. It was Fredric at the main door, conversing, no pleading?

"It is late, ya hear? There is no one here, so leave an old man be!" he screamed. A younger armored man stood at the door, annoyed at the old man and his stubbornness.

"Stand back, you old bastard! For gods sak-"

But he was not there no longer. His body had been pushed aside by an even larger being. All I could see was armor as dark as coal, hair mangled around his face, and a body twice as large as Sandors. Its shadow covered the light of the faint moon, reigning darkness on Fredric's frail body. I could see his body begin to shake.

I did not have time to scream as the immense sword swiftly ran through Fredric's ribcage, piercing the old man to his knees. The ruby blood trailed down to the demons feet as a small grin appeared on its hideous face.

Seconds passed as Sandor grabbed me into his arms and jumped out of the stone window, falling to the cold ground. His speed increased as my heartbeat seemed to stop in my chest. I covered my mouth as I suppressed a cry.

Gregor Clegane's face would never escape my mind.


	14. Chapter 13

The heavy thuds of Nero's hooves coincidentally mimicked my heartbeat, beating against my chest. My arms were frantically trying to hold on to Sandor's large frame, but the horses speed made it nearly impossible. I did not know what scared me more: Nero's lightning quick movements or the demonic man only a few paces behind.  
I could hear his larger horse not far behind. It wouldn't be long before he reached us.  
The forest grew even narrower as the town grew even fainter in the night mist. Soon, all that swallowed us was the darkness of the wild, and the memory of small peace left behind.  
"Hold on with your strongest might", Sandor yelled, as my body tried to grab onto his large torso. Beckoning the horse even faster, Nero gallops were taking us near a river, barely noticeable in the light of the night. It seemed to be a tall river bank, leading to Gods know how deep of waters.  
A low neigh was heard only a few feet away from my own neck. As I turned my head, fearing what monster crawled behind us, Sandor increased Nero's speed.  
Another black beast, even more gargantuan than Nero, pushed itself even closer to us. The master controller sat bent into his horse, a terrible scowl on the largest man I have ever witnessed. I swear his eyes burned a dark copper.  
At that moment, I could remember the first time I laid eyes on Sandor's brother. I remember being weary of Sandor, but as I witnessed Gregor's rage at the Kings rally, true fear was felt that day among the crowd. I had heard of his wickedness even with his own brother, burning half of Sandor's face off when he was a child. And I could remember thinking, how could a man like that before a knight?  
And as I held tighter and tighter unto Sandor, I knew peace was not an option anymore. Joffrey had finally found us, using his other "hound" to hunt us down. And he had succeeded.

Gregors horse was quickly catching up as the river grew even larger beside us. I could see Gregor un- sheathing his sword, ready to strike as his other massive hand steered his beast.  
"Sandor!", was all that I could screamed as the sword struck down missing my head by a hair. Sandor maneuvered Nero forward and closer to the edge of the bank, Gregors horse losing some balance. His slapped his horse to continue the hunt.

It was not long before the second blow fell, yet this time, the professional knight did not miss.  
The blade sliced into my shoulder as I could not help but scream into Sandor's back.

I could hear Sandor's yells but I could not reach him. The night grew even darker as my body fell into a cold numbness; the frigid water engulfed me whole.


	15. Chapter 14

My dearest readers,

It has been months since my last update, and I would like to apologize once again for the long delay. I really appreciate every one of you reading and or reviewing this fanfiction. My penname has also changed, truer to me. I have been addicted to SUPERNATURAL too, and well, I might be writing a new fanfic too...;) Couldn't have done it without you! Many thanks to those who are faithful. Heres the new update! Please read and review; I always love reading feedback and other comments. Love you guys! -Adryanna

A could hear a fire crackling near me. It was very warm, wherever I was. The small bed I laid in smelt of old hay and cotton, yet the softness of it could not be have been matched with the most costly mattress. There was no other sounds coming from my location except for the fire. It was peaceful, and all I could think of was water.

I could not remember anything else. I thought of that cold water reigning down on me. It was a cleansing, a new beginning perhaps. I tried to focus on any other memory, a smell or a sight, but to no avail. A strange heat could be felt beneath my sheets. I could feel my shoulder as if it were on fire. My hand felt the area bandaged completely. But that was not was truly bothering me. Another burst of intense pain passed like a wave in my head. The thudding continued until I slowly laid my head against the soft pillow toward the other side. Curiosity won the battle, as my hand reached for my head, to calm the throbbing. What I felt was a cold truth. A scar the length of my hand could be felt dance down my ear and around the back of my skull. It was fresh; a talented nurse must have stitched it together, as the string holding the skin was perfectly tied into my body in even lines. And that's where it hit me like the cold water had hit me. My hair was gone. All that was left of my waist long hair was the length of my finger. The area of the stitches had almost no hair left. I did not know whether to cry of sadness or of relief to be alive.

Damn you, Sansa, relief, of course. Whoever had done this, had saved my life. To hell with hair.

I kept my eyes closed; I could not dare open them. Where was I was the least of my problems. What had happened...? All I can remember is Sandor's face, screaming at me, trying to grab unto me. And another part of my mind warned me to hurry, to think deeply. It will come, I meditated, it will come. Hours passed as I lay on that hay bed. It must have been around sunset, as I felt rays of the sun on my face through the window. The Crickets songs hurried in accompanied by the hum of a busy town outside. The sound of a wooden door creaked and echoed throughout the room. A timid voice called my name. "Lady Sansa...are you awake...?"

14 days ago

The beast wouldn't gallop any faster. I pushed Him forward; I knew he was in pain but that was at the back of my mind. I wanted to tear my brother's neck in two, feel his blood run down my fingers. But all I could do at this moment was run. Not for my sake. But for the little Bird. He was so close to her. That fucking monster might have taken my face, but I couldn't let him take her. The water was near. I tried to move the little Bird in front of me, but the damn Mountain kept striking at her. Attempts at protecting her would not suffice. The fucker kept striking. I was about to tear his horse first, but her cry stopped me. In seconds she was falling, and I couldn't reach her. She fell, head down into the river. My mind couldn't think. I wanted to jump immediately, but the cunt of a brother didn't wait. He crashed his beast into mine, as I fell into the dirt. In seconds he was off his horse and near my throat, sending his sword down. I blocked in time to throw a dagger into his side. He released a yelp of pain, but that didn't stop him from another attempt at my death. I had no time for this. I needed to get to her. This fucker was in the way, and I couldn't get rid of him. And that's when I saw a chance. I wouldn't be able to get satisfaction of killing him tonight, but he would suffer My sword was able to find his shoulder, right where he had struck down at the little Bird. It cut deep into his bone, his blood spewing among his armor. He felt to the ground; I didn't have much time but i ran. I ran toward the river as fast my legs could let me. I plunged Into the frigid water, calling her name, looking everywhere among the god forsaken river. Nothing. No she wasn't gone. She was here. Somewhere. I would find her.

And for the first time in years, maybe decades, I was praying. Praying for the little Birds safety. I needed her heart beating. Alive. Safe. Smiling.

At the edge of a jagged rock, near the bank, I could see a different type of liquid. It wasn't water.

The blood of the Bird was spilt.

The Gods were once again laughing.


	16. Chapter 15

Alright, here is the new update! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing; you guys are the most patient, awesome-st people ever. Enjoy!

* * *

A slim woman approached the bed, wearing a white common dress, her apron stained of small blotches of blood. Her voice seemed to be in a panic, but when I responded to her, she seemed to calm down.  
Her hazel eyes surveyed me from my shoulder to my head, making sure I was not in pain. I finally saw my surroundings; a large, dark wooden room covered with a white tent-like roof, the fire illuminated the entire space.

"Oh thank the gods, you're alright. We have all been praying for you, My Lady."

"Please forgive me, but where am I?" I asked politely.  
"Oh my lady... One of the nurses found you in the river, brought you here. I am Nurse Katherine. You've been in a deep slumber for more than week. But I made sure to keep those injuries well kept! They'll heal soon, I promise, my lady."

She glanced at my head, and quickly looked down in shame.

"I am so sorry, My lady. The cut…it was deep inside your hair, and I had to cut it to stitch it back up. Please, if there's any way you could forgive me…"

I could not suppress a giggle. Nurse Katherine looked at me in complete surprise.

"Ma'am, you could have left me bald, and I would still owe you my life. Thank you for what you have done."

She smiled brightly.

She quickly took my hands and kissed them. I tried to be as kind as possible, but her extreme loyalty was making be blush.

In an instant, I remembered the cold water, and wait...Sir Gregor...?

"Wait, the river. Ser Gregor was the one who attacked me...and oh Gods..."

I could not finish my sentence. What had happened to Sandor? Where was he? Was he alive? Had Sir Gregor killed him?

"Ma'am, where's Ser Sandor? Please, is he alright?", I pleaded.

The gentle woman smiled and stood up from the bed  
"Don't worry my lady, he is alright. Actually went to fish with the other men. Seems to be the head of the hunting pack-"  
"Wait, I am sorry, head of what pack?"  
I was disoriented about her entire words. It was difficult piecing everything together. Whether it was my head injury or just my own mind, I did not know.

"The hunting pack here in- well we do not have a name for ourselves."

I lifted myself up slowly from the bed, against the small protest of the woman. My legs were still adjusting, and I could already feel my head go numb. But I needed to see what was outside.

I opened the door slowly as lights of the surrounding lanterns danced into the room. It was not a town, but a sort of camp, small huts dispersed throughout what looked like a meadow of sorts. Lanterns illuminated a path into the center of the camp, where it divided into paths to the large stables and farm houses. Men armed in simple armor patrolled the grounds, while women with children hurried into their huts. One thing struck me above all else: their faces. They seemed worried and frightened, ready to run away at the first noise. From the looks of it, more than a two-hundred men and woman lived here.

"We are the remnants of Winterfell, forever loyal to the Starks, my lady", Katherine smiled warmly and declared. "We live everyday waiting for a Stark to guide us once again, and now, you are here! I knew the Gods would not ignore our prayers!"

But wait what of my mother and brothers? Were they safe? What of my sister?

I had so many questions swarming my mind, and I wanted to continue exploring my strange surroundings, yet I could feel my head throbbing again, beckoning back into my bed.

"My lady, you're not strong enough, please, lay down."  
She took my hand and guided me back into my soft bed.  
"I promise, my lady, I will explain everything later. But you must heal," she proclaimed as she kissed my hand again. She poured a type of sweet smelling ailment on my head, and pain slowly shifted away. My shoulder was numb again, but it was healing quickly.  
And with that, Nurse Taiya left me to my own thoughts, swimming around my mind like caged fish. I had to stop thinking; it was literally making me ache again.

I shifted against the hay mattress, feeling a small weight on my chest moved along with my body. The soft cream pearl had lasted the fall; its beauty reflected the hot flames of the fire, dancing in the small gem.

I subconsciously grabbed the stone, feeling an ache in my stomach like never before.  
I found myself missing Sandor's warmth, wishing he was by my side.

My eyes did not let me finish my racing thoughts, as darkness immersed me once more.

* * *

A beautiful lily. It was pale white and innocent, and it danced around me; I tried reaching out to it, but it would only sway away from me. It was cold, and the surroundings changed to a meadow. There, thousands of flowers shined like the pearl on my heart, surrounding a tall evergreen. Its branches were moving deftly, as if calling me towards the great tree.  
The tall grass was soft against my bare feet.  
And there, leaning against the tree, was my mother. She had not aged a day. I called out to her, but no sound came out of my mouth. I yelled until my chest was collapsing, but my mother could not hear me.  
As I approached her even closer, her figure seemed transparent, asleep in an ominous haze.  
But I could not reach her, for the flowers beneath me turned to ash. My cries would not be heard.

One last gaze up to my mother, and her closed eyes became dust.

* * *

I could feel the small beads of accumulating on my forehead. My body felt like ice. I looked toward the small window of the room, revealing a quiet and warm night outside. I had fallen asleep for more than day.  
I tried calming myself down, trying to forget the nightmare, but those closed eyes bore into me.

The light of the crescent moon crept into the window, replacing the illumination of the dead fire. It was late in the night, the silence of the camp evident. My head ached still, a drumming pain near my wound. My fingers reached the back of my head, feeling the large line of stitches.

I was clueless as to what day it was; had I slept a day, or a week?

The small window in the corner of the tent revealed a small comfort.

The moon was always reassuring, relaxing my body against my will. Its colors were never the same, as it changed from milk white to cream. I could touch it, if I were taller, or maybe even stronger. I reached out to it, pretending to touch its rough surface. It was childish, I knew, but it made me calm.  
The sound of the wooden door opening brought me back to this earth. A dark figured appear at the entrance.

Sandor was standing at the opening, the deep grooves under his eyes evidence of little sleep. He looked worn, but still his strong self. He was wearing a different set of clothes, a grey tunic and dark pants. He finally looked like a common man in the country.

When he caught my eye, he stood frozen. I did not know if he looked worried or surprised.

In a few footsteps, he was at my bed, wrapping me into his warm arms. He did not say a word, just holding my body tight against his chest. Sandor was fire, radiating so much heat compared to my own. Perhaps it was my injury, but I felt my head spinning. It was warmth I missed like home. He soon let go, after what it seemed to be a millennium.

"Little Bird…You gave me a hell of a scare. Your head...how is it", he awkwardly asked. I smiled at him, and made sure to reassure him of my health.

"I am fine. Just a small wound, but it will heal.. Thank you, Sandor".  
I did not mean to say his name so strangely, but it was difficult to talk to him, after all that had occurred. I did not want to bring up the subject of Ser Gregor, but I had to know what had happened.

"What happened? At the river…?," I asked timidly. He was not surprised at my question.

"Heh…He cut you, Little Bird. The bastard hurt you. And…I failed to kill him. Oh, he escaped bleeding. Nonetheless, he escaped."

I held his face in my hand.

"You did what you could."  
He could not stand to look into my eyes, as he left my bed in a hurry.

"Don't thank me; I couldn't do a damn thing. I couldn't fucking take care of your wound. I know nothing. Just sleep."  
"But I need to-"  
He glared at me, shutting me up instantly. Why was he so angry?

"Look...I'm sorry, little Bird."

Sandor reached out and gently touching my short hair.

"Long or short, you'll always be flame."  
I small smile appeared on my lips.

A strong silence overcame the room, until Sandor spoke again.  
"We must stay here. Maybe even permanently. These asses are loyal to you like dogs. You might be finally safe."

I had faintly heard him. I was still trying to figure out what we would do here, what would become of us. The exhaustion I had felt before was gone out of my limbs, but it was my mind that was tired.  
Sandor had said a few words about his hunting trips. I could only make out a few words, leader, fucking slow as a mule, and some other phrases. I looked at him the entire time, his lips moving slowly over his words, moving more deftly as the curses came. He was then laughing, a small cruel laugh, but I was happy to hear it once again.

"We'll aren't you in a daze. Get some sleep, you've got a hundred dull sheep to take care of."

"I would like to see the moon."

He looked at me as if I was mad.

"What did that nurse give you, Little Bird?"

I laughed a bit at his words, but I knew I needed his help.

"Please, take me outside."

His scarred mouth twitched into a genuine smile. Sandor approached me once again, and lifted me unto my feet. My head was groggy still, but my body ached for some night wind. His hand held my back as we left my tent. There were not many men around, making the town appear deserted but peaceful.

We walked in silence, the light of the moon guiding us to a small field close to the camp. It was surrounded by a few pine trees, the air smelling like dew.

Before me lay a field of wildflowers, a flurry of deep purple and red flowers. The wind ran through them, the flowers dancing with the tune of the crickets surrounding us.

My head was pounding against my skull, but I tried to ignore it. Sandor held me strongly; I leaned into him as I watched the clouds pass above us.

I slowly fell into the flowers, his arms still on my back.

"Little Bird…?! What's wro—"

"Nothing, I just want to touch the grass", I responded, feeling the soft meadow below me. Sandor seemed confused but sat down beside me, making a loud thud. Who knew he would make me smile so much?

There was silence between us and the night, and although I knew there was much work to be done, everything felt whole at this moment.

My short hair danced with the wind, the pain of my wound diminishing .

"Do you feel well enough to be out here, Little Bird?," he asked worriedly.

"Perfect."

My eyes felt heavy against my eyelids, but I did not want to sleep. I wanted to watch this night forever, in this very spot. And I wanted Sandor with me.

My head fell unto his thigh, my arm holding on to his knee. I felt secure with him; I did not care how unladylike this was, I just wanted to rest. He breathed heavily, as it seemed he had no idea what to do. The trees swayed with the chilly air.

A few moments later, his lips kissed my cheek; my face burned with comfort. His strong arms held me tighter to his body, as the moon had reached its highest point in the night.

* * *

Please R&R :)

Update coming soon!


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you to those that have reviewed and are readers of this story; I really appreciate your feedback. Now, for the entire story, I have diverged from the original story line of the Game of Thrones books. However, in this chapter, there is an event from the series that I have included because it will prompt future events planned. That being said, after this chapter, it will continue to be a different story line, just like before. Again, thanks for all the feedback. :)**

**On with the show!**

* * *

The Morning was crawling through the horizon trees. Sandor was by my side, and his hand supported me throughout the dawn.

I walked toward the camp, seeing the men awaking at dawn. There were already women working on their duties. Their eyes were wide as I passed by them. I was almost at my own tent-like house, when I heard the clanging of armor behind me.  
A group of men clad in metal approached me. They bowed lowly, their armor crying with their movements.  
The tall, older man in the front spoke first. His dark hair was graying, and a large scar adorned his neck.

"My lady, we are all proud and joyous upon your return. We praise the Gods for having you in our presence once again. I am Edwarde Larth, appointed captain to your guardship. We are here to bid your need and ready to fight on your word."  
I nodded, following their statements.

Mother always said there would be a time where I would command. I always doubted it, but damn, she was correct.

Another man clad in simple armor stepped forward. His eyes were a strange turquoise color, his skin the color of burnt leather.

"My Lady, my name is Andoro Terset, second in command. Although we are here to protect you at all times, I have been assigned as a personal guard. If this does not bother my Lady, I will accompa-

"She doesn't need another little insect around her. Are you blind? She has enough protection."

This did not surprise me coming from Sandor. I looked up to him, my eyes giving the message. I knew he never got along with the Kingsgaurd at Casterly Rock, but now there was not much of a choice.

He caught my eye, and snorted into silence. I directed my attention to Andoro.

"Sir, I accept your protection. And all of you: I thank you for your dedication to my family's name."

A smaller yet muscular man stepped forward.

"Lady Sansa, Smithson Lurel, at your command. Please forgive me, but we are all in danger if we don't take action soon. Rumors tell that Lannister loyalists are close. You aren't safe. We need to act fast, my Lady. "

"Don't suffocate her. Now is not the time. We must think this thoroughly. Lady Sansa, after what has happened at the Red Wedding, we do not know if they will come for you", Edwarde proclaimed.

The group of armored men lowered the heads at the mention of the strange wedding. One of the men near the back was praying silently.

My heart was growing heavy; I did not know why.

I looked toward Sandor, his breathing heavy. I caught his eye, but he looked away.

"Men… what is the Red Wedding?" I asked, but none of the men would look me in the eye.

"What has happened?!", I cried to them; tears were stinging my eyes.

Footsteps were running behind me. Nurse Katherine stood in front of me, gasping for air. Beads of sweat were on her brow.

"My Lady…Let me explain everything. Please follow me."

"No …I am sorry, but I command you to tell me. Now." It had been years since I used my power. I felt a twinge of guilt, but I would handle that later. What had happened these past weeks?

"My Lady…." Nurse Katherine began. Her eyes were staring at the ground. She could not say it.

Smithson spoke lowly, but clearly.

"Lady Catelyn and Lord Robb have been assassinated. It was vengeance of the Freys, allied with the Lannisters. His death was insured the moment he married the wrong woman. I…."

The men were all staring at me. The other refugees seemed to hoard around the men, listening on. Their eyes were full of pain.

"I am sorry, My Lady. We all are."

A beating in my heart. A drilling in my ears.

_Eyes turning_ into_ dust._

_..._

My legs obeyed themselves. They started walking, toward the dark forest, but quickly sprinting, running as fast as the heart could let them.

My shoulder was burning, my head in flames.

My entire body was in flames. The tears were coming quickly, pouring down. They fell into the wind.

My legs had carried me to a clearing in the middle of the dark forest. The pine trees smelled of home.

No, there was no home.

_Eyes burning into dust._

My throat was sweltering; a scream escaped my lips. My ears were ringing. It was a howl.

My entire body was in pain. But the worst agony was in my heart.

The morning sky was growing dark, the clouds hiding the rays of sunshine.

There was an approaching thud behind me. I did not have to look.

Sandor's heavy breathing broke the silence of the forest. I could feel the tears stinging my neck, down on my chest.

My eyes could only see darkness.

* * *

She was clad in sweat, her hair shining brightly. It was pure fire.

The Little Bird turned her head around, her blue eyes glowing in the dark morning.

Her face was calm, but the tears kept falling.

If I could kill every fucking Lannister there was, it would have been easy. If I could stop those forsaken tears, I would.

Her stare was empty.

My mouth tried forming words, but I didn't know what I could say to make this moment less painful.

You are useless; it was echoing in my brain.

Finally, some words.

"Little Bird…say the command. I will kill them. I will kill every single one of those bastards. I will bring you every head responsible. Anything, my Lady."

Her eyes blinked slowly, her mouth forming words.

Goddamn, my chest seared.

After what seemed an eternity, she spoke softly.

"Sandor…get me a horse."

* * *

Please R&R/ Update coming soon!

:)


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